


Shit

by TheMightyZan



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Fingering, Masturbation, NSFW, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-20 01:43:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3631905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMightyZan/pseuds/TheMightyZan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor finds Cullen's room empty and gets a little carried away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shit

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Cullen catches Inquisitor masturbating. Pre-getting together.

This was a terrible idea.

No, that wasn’t even a strong enough word.  It was a horrible idea, an idea that would, no doubt, end in nothing but tragedy.

But apparently that wasn’t enough to stop her.

It had started when she had pushed her way into the Commander’s office and noticed that it stood empty.  She vaguely recalled that it was still early enough in the day that he would be in the training yard and had resigned herself to setting the reports she had for him on his desk before starting back to the door.

Curiosity is what slowed her steps, and the fact that for the first time since they had gotten to Skyhold she had a chance to look around uninterrupted in the Commander’s space. She wasn’t proud of the fact that she turned on her heel and moved back to the center of the room, but she had never claimed to be very proud to begin with.

It wasn’t that she wanted to invade his space… Well, that wasn’t true, she wanted very much to take up space with him, it was just that he always seemed so unsure, so held back, and if there was anything here that might help her break the ice with him then she wouldn’t mind having the edge.

The office held little that was helpful.  There was nothing personal that she could see among the reports and scrolls, besides, maybe, hmm, a half-eaten sandwich that looked a day too old and had her shifting her attention.  It took little to turn her gaze to the ladder that led up to his loft and she hesitated only a moment before moving to it.  It was only another moment more before she started up.

She walked around the bed, interest pulled by the supplies on the top of his dresser on the other side. Reaching it, she lifted her hand so that her fingers could play over his comb and the small jar that sat beside it. She lifted the lid of the jar and sniffed experimentally at the wax like contents.  Lemon.  Like him when she was able to get close enough to smell anything other than steel polish or leather.

She dipped out some of the product and smeared it between her fingers, the scent becoming stronger as it warmed.  Giving a small sigh she stepped back until her legs hit the edge of his bed and she was able to sink down onto it.  She wondered what it would be like if he was here with her.  That smile he had, slightly tilted, slightly shy, far too attractive, focused on her as he put his hands on the bed on either side of her.

He would slowly walk his hands further onto the bed, tilting her back as he did so, his mouth nuzzling at the side of her neck while she huffed out a breath at the feeling of it.

She fell back onto the bed with her thoughts.  It was surprisingly easy to imagine him pushing her up until she was firmly settled in the center of the mattress, to feel his hands slide up her sides and to the button at the top of her shirt and slowly work it free before moving to the next one.

And if her hands moved to mirror the movement she felt in her mind, so much the better.

She shouldn’t be doing this. She repeated it to herself even as she followed his hands over her breasts, her fingers teasing at the nipples until they stood in tight points.  She should not be doing this, here, in his space, on his bed.

Those thoughts only seemed to make the pleasure spike higher as she skimmed her fingers from her breasts to her stomach, dipping in at her bellybutton a moment before slipping down to draw along the hem of her pants.

She thought of all the times he had almost kissed her, all the almost meetings of lips where their breath had mingled, hands hovering over the others skin before something, a distraction, a remembering of where they were, would cause them to break apart and she would have to watch him stumble over excuses as his face turned a bright beet red.

She wondered what would happen if next time she didn’t let him pull away, or if his far too stringent control just… snapped.

She brought herself back to the task at hand and pretended it was him that undid the ties of her pants, hand sliding in as they gapped open to trace along the seam of her heat through her smalls.  She arched up into the touch, her knees rising so that the flat of her feet pressed into the bed.  Fingers that she pictured as blunt and well-trimmed pulled down the hem of her smalls and pushed them down to her thighs before circling back up to her clit, teasing through her curls.

It never took long to bring herself to release when she thought of her illustrious and maddeningly proper commander, and now seemed to be no different.  She moaned as she pinched the bundle of nerves between her thumb and forefinger, her free hand coming up to her mouth so that she could bite into her knuckle.  It would do no good for someone to hear her and come to investigate.

Her fingers moved down so that she could slide one of them inside of her, the digit curling as she worked it out and back in and she tilted her wrist so that the heel of her palm pressed into her clit.

She moved against the invasion, hips bucking in time to her thrusts, small pants working their way out around her knuckle.

So close… So close…

A gasping strangle of breath had her shooting her eyes open and whipping her head towards the ladder even as she tumbled over the edge.  Her orgasm rocked through her as she locked gazes with the same man she had just been imagining had his hand inside of her and she couldn’t help the groan that left her throat even as she jerked her hand out of herself.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

The silence stretched around them, neither moving for several seconds until she cursed again, this time out loud, and scrambled off the bed.

Cullen still stood on the ladder, his grip tight enough on the top rung to turn his knuckles white and his eyes wide as she hastily put herself back to rights and practically ran to the ladder then stumbled to a stop when she realized he still hadn’t moved.

Another stare happened between them, words unsaid as both tried to think of something,  _anything_ , that might be useful.

“Could you move?”  She finally shouted, her voice frayed at the edges and more than a little panicked.

Surprisingly Cullen obeyed, quickly making his way down the ladder and off to the side so she could slide down after him.

Once they were both on the ground floor she turned to look at him again, words crowding in her throat, apologizes, explanations, anything really that would give reason to what clearly had none.

For his part, Cullen simply continued to stare, mouth slightly open, and face still red as she sputtered and half rambled in front of him.

She finally gave up, resigning herself to the fact that she simply would never be able to look him in the face ever again, and actually ever speaking to him anymore was completely out of the question.

So she simply turned and fled, hands coming up to cover her face in the hopes that maybe if she couldn’t see she would simply walk off one of the ramparts and hit her head hard enough that she forgot any of this ever happened.

Of course closing her eyes also meant she didn’t see the way Cullen’s gaze tracked her as she left and a hand moved up to rub at the back of his neck as a sheepish grin slowly, very slowly, crossed his face.


	2. What Were You Thinking About?

She retreated to her chambers, embarrassment so strong in her mind that she barely even registered the others that occupied the rooms that she rushed through.

She couldn’t believe that she had done that.  Couldn’t believe that she had let herself get so distracted that she had forgotten that, of course, he would be coming back to his office, his rooms, and the fact that she thought it was a good idea to do  _that_  there…

She was an idiot and she would be lucky if he ever spoke to her, ever even looked at her, again.

She took the stairs two at a time and threw herself onto the bed when she finally reached it.  She would curl up here, safe in the silence of her room, and die, just die.  That seemed the best course of action.

There wasn’t any way of knowing how long she laid there with her face buried in a pillow and the only sound the faint voices from the yard but she thought she must have drifted off at some point, the excitement, and anxiety, and embarrassment of the day all catching up to her once she was resting on the comfort of a soft mattress.

So she rested, and dreamed, and woke with a start when she heard the door at the bottom of the stairs open abruptly.

She watched the stairs warily until a blonde head appeared, followed slowly by the red wrapping and fur mantle of the last person she wanted to see.  She stayed quiet as Cullen topped the stairs, his gaze locking on hers as he came to a stop, his hand landing lightly on the newel post.

“Inquisitor.”

His voice was even, conversational, when he spoke, like she hadn’t just been caught by him with her pants down and her hand inside of herself.  She wasn’t sure how to respond so she settled for the simplest thing.

“Commander.”

He smiled at the acknowledgement, faintly, and she almost missed it from the angle she had to turn her head in order to follow his movement,  and then stepped further into the room and looking her over a moment before moving to the edge of the bed.

“Do you want to tell me something,” he asked, words still carefully neutral as he kept his eyes steady on her.

“Not especially,” she replied and turned her face back into the pillow so that when she spoke again it was muffled.  “Just leave.”

For a few moments she thought he had listened to her, had left her to her humiliation and the impossible task of deciding how she was supposed to interact with him ever again, but then she felt the mattress dip and her head whipped to the side where she could watch him, wide eyed, make himself comfortable on the bed.

He had divested himself of his armor at some point while she was hiding her face and the muscles of his arms bunched under the light linen of his undershirt as he scooted himself closer to her, slowly, as if he was afraid she would run.

As if she could move at all with the way he was watching her.

“W-what are you doing?” She stuttered out, voice unsure, when one of his hands settled on the curve of her lower back.

“Testing something. Tell me, Inquisitor, what were you thinking about when I found you on my bed.”

He turned her as he spoke, the gentle pressure of his hand guiding her to her back so that she was looking up at him more directly.  When she didn’t reply right away, the words stuck somewhere in her throat as she stared at him, he smiled slightly and looked off to the side.

“I should have asked you sooner, preferably while you were still there, but, well, I was surprised.” His smile turned sheepish for just a moment as he spoke and she wondered if maybe they could make it into a joke.

Something to laugh about once and never ever speak of again.

But first, she would need to apologize.

“Cullen, I really am so-“ Her words were cut off by his hand moving to cover her mouth, his fingers warm against her lips as he directed his gaze back to her.

“Don’t apologize.”

“Don’t,” she replied dumbly, the words muffled against his hand.

“Not for that.  Maybe for not inviting me to join.”

She felt heat engulf her face and she found that she was the one looking away when he simply smiled wider at her reaction.

“Invite you?”

“It seems only fair when it was in my sleeping quarters.”

She opened her mouth to reply then thought better of it and simply continued to look to the side until she felt his hand slide along the collar of her shirt.

“You still haven’t told me what you were thinking about.”

She shot her gaze back to him, stunned at the fact that he could sound so calm, amused even, while his fingers dipped down along her collarbone and into the hollow of her throat.

“Was it me?”

She gave a jerky nod, her throat working against his hand as she swallowed.

“Hmm.  What was I doing?”

When had he become so sure in his dealings with this?  Wasn’t this the same man who stuttered and blushed at the mere idea that he had almost kissed her?

“Is this really happening?” The words were barely a whisper and she watched his face soften before he leaned in to brush his lips over the shell of her ear.

“Only one way to find out. Tell me what I was doing.”

She blew out a breath, a long steady stream that helped her focus herself and get her voice back. “You were… You were touching me.”

“Where?  Here?”  He moved his fingers to her shoulder and she shook her head at the question.  “Here?” He moved to her arm and laughed when she shook her head even harder.

“Here then.”  His hand moved up to her breast, the touch light through her shirt and breast band, and it stayed just long enough that she could feel her nipple pebble under the attention before he moved to work her buttons apart until her shirt was loose and pushed open.  He moved from there to her breast band and hooked the edge of it so he could tug down until her breasts spilled out.

Cullen leaned forward so he could gently stroke his tongue over the nipple he had previously been teasing, the tip of it flicking lazily up and down as his hand dropped to her stomach and began tracing circles there.

She squirmed against him, her chest pressing upwards towards his mouth until he pulled back slightly, his touch growing lighter.  When she moaned, the sound stuttering out of her unbidden, he smiled against her skin and wrapped his lips around the aching peak of her breast so he could worry it with his teeth.

She made another sound, something half between another moan and a gasp, and reached up to slide her fingers through his hair so that she could grip lightly at his head, holding his ever moving mouth, and teeth, and tongue in place.

His hand slid down her stomach and over the front of her pants, fingers curling around her and causing her hips to jerk up even as he pulled back in order to pull the ties free and work his hand into the space he had made.

She tightened her hands around his head, knees drawing up slightly, as he made his way under her smalls and through the curls over her sex.

His index finger slid between her folds and settled over her clit, pressing lightly and causing her to groan while she felt the huff of his laughter against her breast.

“Is this what you thought of,” he asked, half muffled, and when she simply nodded his smile grew.  “And maybe this.”

His fingers slid further down until the heel of his palm could rest over the bundle of nerves he had abandoned and his fingers could circle her entrance, still teasingly light, until she began to pant under him.

She thought she might scream from the teasing, her hips pressing up trying to get more pressure which he continued to hold back, when finally, finally, he slid a single digit into her.

He moved his mouth from her breast to her neck, his lips working over the pulse in her throat as he worked his finger in and out of her and the noises coming from her began to sound suspiciously like a whine no matter how she tried to hold them back.

After a minute another finger was added to the first, the burn of it momentary and soon forgotten when he began to press down on her clit in a steady rhythm that matched his repeated penetration, his fingers curling against her passage as they slid in and out, their movement easier with each pass as her wetness coated him.

The pressure built in her stomach, the muscles tightening in pleasure until she was sure they would simply break apart in delight and she would die from the overwhelming feel of it.

And then it did break.

It broke and spread and rocketed through her stomach and chest and limbs until she was crying out from the feeling and arching up into him as he continued his ministrations until the last bit of it was wrung out.

She wasn’t sure how long she laid there, a giggle sounding under her breath as she pressed her hands into her eyes and felt Cullen shifting above her.

“Is that it then,” she finally asked peaking around her hands and laughing louder at the bland expression he sent her.

“Didn’t you enjoy it?”

“I did.  I did,” she assured him, her body still tingly and overstimulated when he slid his finger from her and danced them low over her stomach. “But there was a great deal more I had imagined, not the least of which was you enjoying yourself just as much.”

His smile was amused, brilliant, and easier than she had ever seen.  “It’s still early and I have nowhere pressing to be.”

She returned the smile and reached up to trace the lines that had crinkled around his eyes.  “Neither do I.”

“Good.”


End file.
